


A Chance to Breathe

by LillsBills



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of people don't look good, Friendship, Grieving, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mentions of Child Loss, Minor Character Death, OC character - Freeform, So if youre here for that, This fic is NOT KIND to Draco Malfoy, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillsBills/pseuds/LillsBills
Summary: Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger return to Hogwarts together sixteen years after the Battle of Hogwarts as consultants. Pansy with a teen daughter with familiar green eyes and Hermione with a past that fills her with rage.Will their time at Hogwarts give them some peace?Formally "Down and Back Again" because I realize I have a WIP on my drive already named that. Whoops.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with a lot of heavy topics and can be triggering so please read the tags and before reading the fic itself.
> 
> I'll be posting once every week (or once ever two weeks as long as I don't get carried away with editing). I'll also be posting on FF.Net once I stop having problems with it. 
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter.

Pansy had made several mistakes in her life. More than she would like to admit but through the years, and through her friendship with Hermione Granger, she was able to forgive herself. 

Several of her mistakes, however, were those she was thankful for. After all, some of those mistakes gave her Camellia, her daughter. 

Though at some points Pansy cursed herself for daring to sleep with Harry Potter during her 8th year, she cursed herself even more for having the audacity of falling for the man. She hated that she was used then left heart broken when Potter left her for Ginny Potter nee Weasley. It wasn’t like she shouldn’t have see it coming. He may have slept with her over the corse of their final year, but deep down Pansy knew that if the redhead came back into Potter’s life, he would leave Pansy in a heartbeat. 

It wasn’t long after graduation when Pansy discovered her condition. After several potions and tests she knew she was carrying Potter’s child. Not that she would have ever told him. No. It would have been foolish to put her in the position of homewrecker to the Golden Couple. 

Her family disowned her for having a child out of wedlock— she was spoiled goods in the Pureblood world after all— and so Pansy did what Slytherins did best. She ran. She found her self in France before not long before her daughter came screaming into the world. 

The young mother thanked Merlin and any god that would listen that her sweet little girl looked nothing like her father.

Apart from her bright green eyes of course.

She raised her daughter in France as best she could, hopping between jobs and studying for her Charms Mastery while she watched Camellia grow. And along the way, she was reacquainted with Hermione, which in itself was a blessing.

But this. This was a mistake. They should have never accepted the consulting positions at Hogwarts. And if they did, they should have never let Camellia come with them. They both knew that Camellia had no desire to be homeschooled when she had the chance to attend Hogwarts, even if it was for such a short time. She had been more than happy for the change

Pansy took in steady breathes in and out, willing herself to calm down before she fainted into the dirt and ruined her dress.

“We’ll be fine,” Hermione said, looking much like she’d rather be on a broom then walking up the steps to their Alma Mater, “it’s not like we haven’t faced worse.”

Pansy’s lips turned down but she said nothing. 

The pureblood may have been apprehensive about returning, but Hermione was another story. The muggleborn was haunted by what had happened in Wizarding Britain and what she had left behind. 

“You’re right,” Pansy said, “it’s only two years. Camellia will graduate then we can go back to France.”

She watched Hermione nod. 

They made the rest of the trip in silence. The anxiety started to erode any sense of calm Pansy had mustered up. She wondered how her daughter was doing on the train ride to Hogwarts. Camellia might have been sixteen, but according to Hermione, she had her father’s temperament which— if Pansy remembered correctly— got Potter in to a lot of trouble in their Hogwarts days.

Two years.

They could do two years.

McGonagall had asked them to consult on new curriculum and Hermione felt much too indebted to the new Headmistress to say no. This move was supposed to grant them closure. This was supposed to bring them some kind of peace. 

Another deep breath.

They were close enough to now see doors of the castle. 

“We can do this,” Pansy heard Hermione whisper to herself. Pansy’s arm stretched out and she held Hermione’s hand tightly. 

They had faced everything together since meeting again. They were each other’s best friends, each others confidants. 

Hermione released a shaky breath at the sight of the Headmistress at the threshold waiting for their arrival to welcome her new professors. 

“It’s been a long time,” the older witch told them. 

Hermione simply nodded, “I didn’t think that we would ever be back here but we couldn’t say no.” 

“We’re happy to be here,” Pansy said.

Headmistress McGonagall nodded and gestured to the entrance, “Let me escort you to your rooms before the students get here.”

The two witches followed Mcgonagall into the castle. Hermione’s chambers were first. They weren’t far from the Gryffindor common room, and though she wasn’t the Head of Gryffindor, it was best to have her close to the tower. 

Hermione promised to see Pansy at the Sorting before she disappeared into her room.

After thirteen years of friendship Pansy knew the witch needed time to herself before such a busy event. 

“I’m glad you two said yes to my offer,” McGonagall said, scoring Pansy down to the Dungeons, “I was worried that we couldn’t have enough time to prepare for the new regulations by the time they came around.”

Pansy gave a snort, “I doubt that Hermione would allow that. Not to mention I think it’s a good idea for Camellia to see where she’s from, where her mother and aunt grew up.”

McGonagall nodded, her lips turned oddly, “Hermione is a loyal one, isn’t she?” the headmistress said with an odd inflection in her tone, “And I’m looking forward to meeting your daughter.”

Pansy gave a tightlipped smile, “She’s very happy to be here. She wanted to come to Hogwarts when she was eleven… it just wasn’t a good idea then.”

“And now?” the Headmistress asked.

“I cant say,” the black-haired witch replied. 

The rest of the walk happened in silence, only the echo’s of their footsteps to fill the silence. 

When Pansy was finally left alone, her shoulders finally relaxed. She hadn’t been this tense since her mastery. 

The witch explored her new rooms until it was time for dinner. The dungeon wasn’t as damp as she remembered them being. The fireplace was stocked with wood to burn and room was oddly inviting for being somewhere so ominous. The kitchenette was also stocked with a few necessities and Pansy was happy she didn’t have to have meals every day in the Great Hall. 

Pansy was sure that Camellia would like to visit. 

She took a deep breath, changed into her robes then headed to the Great Hall. The halls were still familiar to her, the hauntings of the past whispering in her ear. 

Hermione had yet to arrive so Pansy waited by the doors, scanning the hallway for the other witch. She heard the carriages of the returning students pull up when she finally say the curly-haired witch’s figure appear. 

“We’re nearly late,” Pansy scolded. 

Hermione sighed, “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

The smell carried even in the hall. 

Firewhisky. 

Fantastic. Hermione was drunk. 

At least she didn’t look it. 

Pansy pulled Hermione to the Professor’s Table by her sleeve, not bothering to say hello to the other Professors. They quickly sat and Pansy started to count the seconds until her daughter was to be sorted. Camellia may have been a 6th year, but she was riding in the boats with the first years. 

Hermione pulled a flask from her robes and Pansy could see why, the children of old friends and lovers’ were here. 

Pansy reached over and took a health sip from the flask before handing it back. 

Camellia was easy to spot, of course. She was nearly a head taller than the first years, her straight black hair decorated with the sparkling broach Hermione had gotten for her. Pansy spotted Hermione’s lips turn up at the sight of her goddaughter. Camellia lit up at the sight of the women at the Professor’s table. She gave a small wave in their direction and Hermione waved back. 

One by one the new students were sorted. Finally, Camellia was called.

The young witch looked nervous walking up to the stool. The tension was high in the Hall. Who knew that the disowned Parkinson heiress had a daughter?

Camellia seemed to take the silence in stride. She flipped her straight black hair behind her shoulder and kept her head held high. 

Pansy wasn’t surprised when the hat shouted out “Gryffindor”. The table to the far left erupted in cheers and Camellia walked down to meet her house mates. 

Damn. She owed Hermione five gallons. 

The rest of the students were sorted— most notably Albus Severus Potter in Slytherin, Rose Weasley in Gryffindor, and Scorpius Malfoy in Slytherin. 

All the students were cheered on as they took their seats. 

The sorting ended with a child named Alec Zabini taking his place at the Slytherin table. 

McGonagall stood, “Good evening and welcome to our new students!” she said, excitement clear, “Before we begin, I would like to introduce two new professors, Professor Parkinson who will be consulting on Charms and Professor Granger who will be consulting on Potions to get class up to par with the new international regulations.”

Pansy stood immediately giving a small bow to the students and fellow professors. Hermione on the other hand took a moment, using the table to steady herself as she stood. She gave a quick hello and sat back down. 

The headmistress waved her hands and the feast popped onto the tables. The oohs and aahs of the first years brought a smile to Pansy’s lips. 

To be a first year again would be a gift. 

Dinner came and went and Pansy bolted to Camellia before the prefects had a chance to usher her away. Pansy crushed her daughter to her, holding her tightly. 

“How was the train?” Pansy rushed out, “Not to bad I hope. Make any friends?”

Camellia chuckled, “It was okay, mum.” She pried herself out of her mothers embrace, “People were kind. There was no trouble, I promise.” 

“I told her you would be okay, but you know your mother,” Hermione said from a few steps away. She gave Camellia a softer her, pulling away with a smile, “Gryffindor suits you, love.”

Camellia beamed, “And mum owes you five gallons.”

Hermione laughed. Music to Pansy’s ears.

“That she does,” Hermine put out her hand, palm up, and wiggled her fingers, “pay up.”

Pansy rolled eyes and dropped the amount into the witch’s palm.

The Gryffindor prefect called for Camellia who eagerly left without a second thought. She was going to well at Hogwarts. 

Pansy turned to Hermione. 

“Before you say anything, I used a breath freshening charm before I came down here,” Hermione said, “and I’m mostly sober now.”

Pansy huffed, “Just be careful.”

Hermione already started to walk away, “I always am—” she sang, “I’m knackered, and I have classes bright and early so I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. Of course she would be exited for classes. The damn bookworm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert, I'm never on time to anything (sorry).

Hermione may have dreaded coming back to Britain, but she was excited to teach, even if it was for a short period between reviewing the student's curriculum. She had always envisioned herself working her way up in the Ministry before she left for France, but this position gave her hope. 

She was here to teach, support Camellia, and face her past before going back to the continent. 

Hermione woke hours before her first class and decided to take a short walk around the castle before breakfast was served. 

Hermione might have loathed the silence after the war but she learned to enjoy it when it came paired with the peace and serenity of the morning. 

She let her feet lead her though the halls and passages from her youth. Two decades were clearly not enough for the castle to be wiped from her memory. 

Perhaps she would need some whisky later. 

When the sun was finally above the horizon, Hermione headed to the Great Hall, her fingers tracing the stone walls as she walked. She could smell breakfast before she even reached the doors. 

Her stomach growled. 

She hadn’t had much to eat, she had been much too nervous to do anything but drink and breathe deeply. 

Especially when she saw the first years. 

They sent her back but Hermione quickly pushed the memories back. 

She wondered if her old friends were happy. She wondered if she should reach out after so many years away. Hermione doubted that they would do the same.

Hermione made herself comfortable at her place at the professor’s able before she tucked into the breakfast. Luckily, she was the first to arrive, so etiquette went right out the window as she piled on her plate with eggs, grilled tomatoes, potatoes, and ham. 

She was half way done with her plate when Hagrid walked in. 

“‘Ermione!” He called.

Hermione’s head snapped up, mouth full of food. Merlin, did coming back to Hogwarts turn her into Ron?

She chewed her food fully before calling back, “Hi, Hagrid. Long time no see.”

The half-giant pulled the chair to Hermione’s right out and sat down. “How have you been, ‘Mione? It’s been a long time.”

Hermione blushed, “It has, hasn’t it? I was out of the country… I needed time away.”

Hagrid hummed, “The war was hard— Cant blame ya for leaving. We should have tea back at my hut when yer free.” 

Hermione agreed and turned her attention back to her plate as more students and faculty filed in. Pansy perked up at the sight of her, giving her an odd look before the former Slytherin invited herself to the seat to Hermione’s left. 

“You’re up…” Pansy said, her voice trailing off, “How did you sleep?”

Hermione shrugged, “I’ve had worse night. I’ve forgotten just how homey Hogwarts could be.”

Pansy hummed as she took in a sip of tea. “This can be good for us,” she said after a long moment, “maybe… maybe we’ll actually get somewhere this year.”

Hermione only half heard Pansy, her eyes watching the familiar first years walking into the Great Hall, “Maybe,” Hermione muttered. 

Thankfully, the rest of breakfast went on quietly. 

Hermione quickly headed to class and by the end of her first group of students— fourth years— she was ready for a drink. It seemed that Professor Slughorn had neglected to teach them the basics. Hermione would have to re-plan the entirety of the year to make sure they were ready for OWLs and eventually there NEWTs. 

Class after class Hermione let her students and professors know that if they had any questions at all that they should come to her after class or Friday afternoons when she would be in her classroom grading papers. A few students scribbled down her office hours but most didn’t even look like they heard her. 

By Hermione’s last class observation, she was ready to throw herself off the Astrology Tower. She knew the first years would be the hardest, but sitting across carbon copies of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy was a new hell Hermine wasn’t completely ready for. 

She really didn't need to start crying on the first day of classes. 

No. 

Now she really wished she hadn’t said yes to McGonagall. 

It was the end of her time with the first years when Albus Potter walked up to her desk. A Slytherin Potter was interesting enough, but this boy was so shy it was strange. 

“Can I help you, Mr.Potter?” She asked with a forced smile.

“You were friends with my dad and uncle right?” he asked, his cheeks tinged pink.

Hermione’s tight smile faltered a little. Did they talk about her? Even after her falling out with Ron? 

“I am,” she said thickly.

“Aunt Lavender talks about you a lot. She says you’re really smart,” He said seemingly ignorant of how uncomfortable Hermione was.

Hermione cleared her throat, “That’s nice to hear.” She said, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Albus shook his head, “I just wanted to say hello.” 

And just like that, the little Slytherin turned and walked away. 

Merlin, he even shared Harry’s walk. 

Hermione stood and gathered her paperwork before locking the Potion’s Room. 

“Aunt Hermione.”

Hermione jumped, whipping her wand out and pointing it at the source of the sound of her name. 

Camellia. 

She almost hexed her own goddaughter. Merlin she needed a drink. 

“Sorry, love,” Hermione whispered, tucking her wand away, “you gave me a scare.”

Camellia chuckled, “I could see that.” She said, “I wanted to talk with you with that’s okay.”

Hermione froze. She took in the young witch. Camellia avoided looking in Hermione’s eyes, she was picking at her fingers and she moved from foot to foot. 

“What’s wrong? Did someone say something?” The muggle-born asked, “Do I need to get your mother.”

Camellia shook her head, “No! I just want to talk to you.” 

Hermione pursed her lips, “Then come on, lets have tea in my rooms. No need to talk around prying ears.”

The walk to Hermione’s chamber was an awkward one to say the least. She didn’t know Camellia to get in trouble where she couldn’t talk to her own mother. Harry might have fathered her but despite her temperament, she was as impulsive. 

Hermione unlocked her chamber doors and invited Camellia in. The black-haired witch made herself comfortable on the couch in front of the fire place while Hermione put on a kettle.

“You’re rooms are nice, Aunty Mi,” she whispered. 

Hermione immediately abandoned the tea on the counter, padding over and taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

“What’s going on, Camellia?” Hermione asked, “You never call my Aunty Mi unless something’s wrong. Are you sure no one said anything to you?”

Camellia nodded, picking at her fingers again. 

“Mellia?” Hermione pressed, “What is it?”

The young witch sighed, “I saw his other kids today.” Her voice was barley above a whisper, “I know that the situations are different and that mum doest like to talk about it but I really don’t know anything about my father and when I saw his kids I just…” She sighed again, “I don’t know. It’s hard telling everyone I don’t know who my father is when I share a common room with one of his sons, you know?”

Hermione’s shoulders fell. “Oh sweetheart,” Hermione breathed, “it’s okay to asks questions.”

Camellia moved closer to Hermione, “So, can you tell me about him then?”

“Well,” Hermione said, leaning back against the armrest, “he was my best friend before I moved to France and re-met your mum.” Hermine sighed, “He’s very loyal and his heart is the right place but sometimes he makes stupid decisions… well, most of the time.”

Camellia looked down at her hands, “Do you think that leaving my mom was a stupid decision?”

There is was, the question she really wanted to ask. 

“I cant answer that question, ‘Mellia,” Hermione said, “but I can say that you mum has tried everything so you don’t feel his absence.”

“I know,” she muttered, “I just can’t help thinking about the what ifs and since coming back here I cant help button think it was a mistake.”

Hermione reached over and put her hand one Camellia’s hand. Hermione knew the sixth year was right but what done was done. 

“We’ve been in Britain for three weeks. It’s only been a day at Hogwarts … maybe things will look up…” Hermione squeezed Camellia’s hand, receiving a squeeze in return, “If you still don’t want to stay we can always move back to France at the end of the year so you can finish up your last year.”

“Promise?” Camellia whispered.

“On my wand, I promise, love.” Hermione pulled away, “Have you talked to your mum about how you’re feeling?”

A shake of the head was the only answer Hermione got. 

“I can talk to her if you want.”

Another shake of the head. 

“I will when I’m ready… I am a Gryffindor after all,” Camellia looked at Hermione with watery eyes.

“That you are,” Hermione replied, “now lets get you to bed.”

Hermione stood and offered her hand to her goddaughter. They walked together to Gryffindor tower and before Camellia crossed the changing stair cased she turned and hugged Hermione. 

“You’re the best godmum anyone could ask for,” She whispered. 

“And I coolant ask for a braver goddaughter,” Hermione pulled away, “now off to bed. You have class bright and early.”

Hermione crossed her arms as she watched Camellia whisper the password into the Gryffindor common room. She looked back at Hermione it twisted her heart to see how alike her mother. With a final nod the witch turned and disappear with the portrait shutting behind her.

She sighed for the unknown time that day. “I know you’re there Pansy,” she said, “I can feel you worrying from here.”

Hermione turned on her heal and rose her eyebrow as the witch stepped out of an alcove. 

“I’m sorry for following you two… I just saw she wasn’t at dinner and I got worried.” Pansy reasoned. 

Hermione gave a tight lipped smile, “I know. She’s just having a hard time adjusting. I think being homeschooled then suddenly being around so many people in her classes is a lot more jarring than we initially thought.”

Pansy nodded towards the hallway, “Fancy a walk?”

The muggle-born shrugged, following Pansy’s lead. Hermione walked silently knowing the questions were coming. It didn’t take as long Hermione thought it would, which was a record where Pansy was concerned. Say would you would but Pansy was a patient woman.

“Is— is it something that would break goddaughter and godmother confidentiality?” She asked, nonchalantly examining her nails.

It was anything but nonchalant. 

“No,” Hermione answered, “She just asked about Harry. I think her seeing his sons is hard on her.”

Pansy made a noise in the back of her throat, “But we talked about this,” she muttered.

“I know,” Hermione said, “but I still think that she hasn’t fully grasped Harry as a person. He’s always been a concept to her and now seeing that he’s real and that he’s out there with a family… She had questions, most of which I can’t answer.” 

Pansy raised her brows, “Well, she’ll come to me when she’s ready. Give her time, that’s what you always said.” 

An awkward silence fell between the two witches.

“Have you seen him yet?” Pansy asked. 

Hermione turned to her friend with a questioning look, “Seen who?”

“Scorpius Malfoy.”

And just like that, any peace Hermione might have had shattered. 

“He looks just like—” 

Hermione interrupted, “—Don’t. Pansy please don’t.”

The black-haired witch grabbed Hermione’s sleeve and stopped walking. Pansy looked at Hermione with tears clinging to her lashes. 

“You haven’t even visited,” Pansy started only to be interrupted again. 

“— I don’t want to talk about this,” Hermione rasped, “I can’t.”

“Okay,” was the only reply. 

Pansy left Hermione in the hallway. They both knew it was for the best. 

The potion’s mistress stood in the cold for a moment, forcing her body to stop trembling. Eventually she made it back to her rooms where she dissolved into tears. 

Perhaps she would take up tea with Hagrid the next morning.


End file.
